


Shock Value

by chaosisalwayshere



Category: Blink-182
Genre: Lifeline Series, M/M, boxcar racer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosisalwayshere/pseuds/chaosisalwayshere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark learns of some disturbing news and leaves town to take his mind off everything. Tom is tired of him ignoring him and finds his own way to get through to Mark. Their only middle ground is a warehouse haunted house event in the middle of no where.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chaptered fic. I hadn't expected to do chapters in any of my stories, it sort of just came out that way. I'm working on the 3rd chapter and there's actually no telling if I'll end it there or not, I'm pretty bad at brainstorming endings.. Hope you enjoy, things will get kind of weird in this story. I've gone back and edited chapter one, expounding on a few details. I will being doing the same for chapter two so stay tuned!

He wasn't paying attention to the road signs. He didn't bother to catch a glimpse of the city limits as the bus rode further into seclusion. It was even beyond him to ask where they were going. He had the whole bus to himself yet he remained hidden away in his bunk behind a drawn curtain. The darkness enveloped him nicely. It was soothing to his eyes and fit his mood just right. He didn't want to face the world right now. It had been a rather cumbersome week, to put it lightly. Lately, he found himself enjoying every moment he could get to himself and this time was no exception. If he didn't have to do anything the next 10 years he’d be perfectly fine with that. His eyes were swollen with exhaustion and he could feel every aching muscle in his body cry out. 

The rest of the band members were away doing volunteer work, sponsoring, advertising, and fan basing. He, on the other hand, wasn't even sure what was on his agenda or if he even cared to know. He seemed quite content on his vagrant expedition through the country side of some no name city in a no name state. He figured as long as the driver knew what he was doing, it’d be okay. Even then, he wasn't sure he cared. Perhaps it was his complacent behavior, but ending up in the middle of no where in no time at all pleased him to no end. There were no crew members around hassling him or managers breathing down his neck. It was just him and the open road and he found comfort in that emptiness.

He was being far too indifferent in his thoughts as he contemplated. He sat up slowly, slipping his legs off the edge of his bed and lazily dragged the curtain open. It had been hours since they left the last venue his band played at. Since then he had been on the road. He left pretty quickly after the show as well, not just because he was more than ready to get the hell out of there but more particularly to avoid a certain someone. He stepped quietly down the narrow hallway until he reached the front and leaned against the driver’s seat. He didn't speak, he just watched the vacant road ahead and a horizon that seemed to be waking up from a long night’s rest. The sky was a gradient of oranges, pinks, reds, and a baby blue that spread out beyond his point of view. 

It was then he started to actually wonder what time it was or really what day it was. He had been that disorientated that he’d already forgotten it was only a few hours after he left. The day wasn't beginning, it was only just coming to life, uncovering itself from the blanket of darkness. It was a rather nice night, however, especially how the twilight revealed itself out here where the city lights could not obtrude their delicate presence. It remained a welcomed distraction in Mark’s mind. When sleep wasn't finding it’s way to him, he found himself staring out the moon roof for hours just listening to the rushing wind and subtle rumble of road beneath him. It was then he decided to let himself get lost in time and space itself. 

The last few days had been hectic and full of tension, and it hadn't even been the band in general or the stress of it all that was getting to him. It was something entirely different, at least, dealing with one of the band members. He had spent so much time trying to get it off his mind he hadn't realized how it crept back in his thoughts, slithering in like a venomous snake poisoning him from the inside out. He noticed his thoughts falling back into darkness, hours turned to seconds and days melded together. He seemed quite offbeat after the call he had answered a few nights ago. He hadn't meant to, and he probably shouldn't have picked it up but he had. He was alone backstage getting himself psyched for the show. There was so much commotion he had found himself strumming away on his bass for the last 10 minutes in the confines of a small room. Tom or Travis were herded away and hadn't made their way back yet. Mark figured he’d just wait for his cue, and was sure someone would come along eventually.

It was Tom’s phone, chirping on the other side of the room that caused his attention to be drawn away from his guitar. He squinted at it and looked around a moment before walking towards the vibrating phone and picking it up. He didn't really bother to see who was calling he just flipped it open. When he put it to his ear he heard an unfamiliar male’s voice on the other end talking excitedly even before he could say anything or let the person know who had answered. The man was raving about something called ‘boxcar’ from what he caught in the man’s hurried scramble to release all his glee in one go. There was a quick pause followed by what sounded like paper shuffling in the background. The man breathed into the phone and let out a laugh before continuing. At this point, Mark’s heart was already racing and his mind was beginning to spiral into the depths of something dark and wary. Blood rushed to his palms and cheeks and he could feel himself starting to perspire. 

He listened some more after a moment until the voice fell silent and was calling out to Tom curiously. How much more information could he pump out of this guy? Of course there was no way he could mask his voice but if he asked calmly maybe the guy would give up exactly what it was he was going on about. Mark finally responded, letting him know Tom wasn't available, his tone hushed and dim. This must have startled the man because he suddenly hung up leaving Mark in dead air. At that moment, it was pretty clear to him something was definitely going on that he probably shouldn't have known. Mark pulled the phone away and couldn't recognize the name or number. He had half the mind to call this number back and demand answers but he came to the conclusion on the spot that Tom had to be the one to confront him about this. He had been mulling over the call for days now since he had gotten it. It was starting to really drive him crazy. So much so it was all that consumed his thoughts. 

From what he could hear, Tom was working on something. Something big. And he hadn't any clue about it. But even more so, it sounded like this man belonged to a group he was ranting on about. Tom’s band. And this was the first Mark ever heard of it. Supposedly they were going to get together to start recording soon. He didn't know what to do with this information. It sat heavily on his chest for days since then and he refused to even look Tom in the eye, who of course asked a million times if things were okay. He was waiting for Tom to talk to him, to come out and say it but he never did. He never once mentioned anything outside of Blink that he was working on. That hurt him the most, that his own best friend couldn't come to him or talk to him about what was going on in his life. They talked about everything but suddenly there was this huge nasty secret being kept from him and he didn’t understand why.

He dedicated himself to his band. Every ounce of his being he poured into it, day in and day out. And now it seemed his devotion was in vain. One band member, his best friend of all people, was slowly leaving him behind or so it seemed. He felt a deep sense of betrayal that ate at his insides. Something he’d never thought Tom would make him go through. That was the last thing he wanted to think about. He had to pull himself out his thoughts and try to focus on the present. His eyes focused back into view, taking in the horizon ahead. He spun on his heels and lurched forward back to his bunk, shoving the curtain aside and crawling onto his small bed. He dug around in the cabinets above and fingered a bottle of rum hidden in the back. He could just drink away his woes but he knew his thoughts would only implode on themselves and he would be an unstoppable mess of curses and tears. It was too easy to drink, too easy to escape. He couldn't bring himself to do things the easy way. 

His attention was averted a moment as a billboard came into view. It’s vibrant display of hues against the rising sun caught his eye. It was an advertisement for a haunted house, celebrating Halloween. He had forgotten it was only about a week away. He had originally made plans to spend the holiday with Tom and Travis, but it didn't seem things were going to work out that way. He made the decision right then and there. He was going to get his mind off the whole fucking week and screw the rest of the world. If he couldn't have things his way, one way or another he was going to have a good time. Even if it meant being a complete stone cold loner on one of his favorite holidays. 

He shuffled back to the front and hit the back of the seat with his palm. The driver glanced quickly to him, jumping a bit from the sudden smack to his chair.

“Hey, get me there,” Mark said as he pointed towards the sign. The driver squinted at it as he passed it, trying to slow to get a better look. He wasn't too familiar with the area but the city was small enough, it wouldn't be too hard to find. Mark nodded in unison with the driver and returned to his bed. Afternoon was well on it’s way and he wasn't about to spend his morning alive.

-  
Tom had spent the majority of the morning watching the road in a lost daze. The radio station blasted something vaguely familiar but he hadn't been paying enough attention. It was just white noise, like everything and everyone else around him at the moment. He had been in a daze for a while now and didn't understand the sudden lack of interest in just pretty much everything. It felt like there was a huge void in his life, and rightly so because his best friend was seemingly avoiding any interaction with him. His mind, much like Mark’s, was going a mile a minute but for all kinds of different reasons. It was exhausting, to say the least. He had probably been sitting curled inside himself for hours now, watching the night slip away into a grim morning. A heavy fog lingered about the bus, only a few feet of visible space between him and void beyond it. He let out a long, drawn out yawn before turning and regarding the room behind him. It was a small cramped area with a bed shoved in a corner and what appeared to be a shelf pressed against the other side.

There was a sudden ruckus in the front and the bus hauled to a stop, jerking him forward. He almost tumbled off the bed but was able to catch himself on the small shelf that even threatened to give way. A muffled voice shouted and it grew louder as it approached his room. A thin curtain that separated him from the world pulled open abruptly and a glowing red face peered in.

“Tom! Let’s go, we got 15 minutes to take care of business before we gotta hit the road again.” The man’s name was Steve. He was a temp and in charge of transporting Tom in between shows. He was rather short and had a thin line of hair encircling his round chubby head. Tom found the man’s outwardly appearance somewhat amusing but what he disliked most was how high strung and easily set off the man could get. He must have made it a thing to purposely move in slow motion to watch the man time bomb.

Tom shook his head, letting out an exasperated breath of air. He hated being rushed and delegated his time. He was supposed to be taking it easy at the moment, this was his down time. Though it didn't quite feel that way. He would have much rather have liked to be raising hell with Mark. He didn't know why he couldn't get him off his mind. It was like Mark had become the plague, infesting his thoughts and shrouding him with a gloom of confusion and tension. He stood and moved quickly past the man in a huff, ignoring the list of activities the man prattled out. Bathroom, eat, sign here, look there. Pushing open the bus door he leaped from the last step and stretched out, feeling every aching muscle pull and pop back to life.

Steve wasn't too far behind, waddling from side to side carefully as he nearly slipped down the stairs in his haste to get to Tom’s side.

“Tom, just remember, be back here in 10 or we’ll leave you behind,” he almost growled out, his voice raised as Tom started to walk away. Tom’s lips cracked into a cynical smile as he turned his head back towards Steve.

“You can’t leave me behind, what the fuck are you even talking about,” he said with a slight chuckle in his tone. Steve fumed for a moment then let out a long sigh.

“Just, try not to take too long, we’re on a tight schedule.” He pulled out a piece of paper and started to mouth a few things as he read down a list. Tom was pretty tired of seeing that crumbled piece of paper being pulled out every time Steve was trying to stress the importance of being punctual. He could at least appreciate the man’s diligence and coordination but right now wasn't the time.

“Look, man, that’s your schedule. I don’t feel like being micro managed right now. I don’t even know where the hell we are. Let me just.. Take it easy for a bit, okay?” He could tell he must have hit a nerve the way a vein in Steve’s forehead pulsated but the man simply shook his head and turned away. But he was trying to be as honest and polite about it as he could. He was stressed enough and the dark bags under his eyes was an indication it was really taking it’s toll on him. Steve must have somehow picked up on this at some point. He withdrew himself from the situation, no longer feeling the incessant need to argue or push his point onto the poor man.

“Alright.. You know what, have it your way, Tom. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.” He shoved the paper back in his pocket and turned on his heel, walking away defeated. A grin played on Tom’s lips. Finally, the words he was waiting to hear. He wasn't expecting it in the least but he wasn't going to question it either. But now the biggest question was what was he going to do with all this time he had gained? Not that there was too terribly much he could do. He pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment. He was growing more curious about what the other two were up to. He had spoken to Travis a few hours before. The drummer was spot lighting in the next city to promote his little business and just take some time off to himself to focus on his own thing. And then there was Mark. A flurry of anxiety crawled beneath his skin just having Mark on the forefront of his mind. He hadn't spoken with him in days it seemed, not even since he last saw him at the venue after their show the night before. His jokes seemed forced and there was a tension about him. His body was kept turned from Tom and his eyes never once truly met his. It was really beginning to eat away at him. There seemed to be some form of displaced aggression directed to him.

There was definitely a distance about Mark that didn't take Tom long to notice, he just didn't know or understand why. Tom had tried to speak to him on several different occasions but each time Mark either seemed too busy and had to go or out right ignored him. It was the most unnerving thing about the whole situation, that Mark would simply just not talk to him about anything. He could at least give him a hint as to why he was giving him the silent treatment. He fingered the numbers before he decided to go ahead and just call. It was a shot in the dark but a lot had happened since their last talk some odd days ago and he was ready to explode if he couldn't at least gush about his overly managing manager traveling with him. At least it would be a good ice breaker, maybe he could stir the conversation into the direction he wanted, that is if Mark would give him that much.

The other end rang a few times before there was silence. For a second he thought it was going to voice mail or that perhaps Mark had hung up but after a moment a groggy and disgruntled voice spoke.

“Yea?” Mark had heard a muffled ring from beneath his pillow and let out a dissatisfied groan. Who would be calling him at a time like this? He hadn't even checked to see who was calling when he put the phone to his ear. Tom smiled to himself, stopping a few feet from a store’s entrance and leaning against the side of it's wall.

“Hey Mark, were you asleep,” he asked with a small laugh in his tone. He felt an odd flutter in his gut and his hands even began to tremble. He had hoped Mark was finally ready to talk to him, if anything just tell him how he’s doing or where’s going or what was going on in his life. Mark’s eyes widened as he realized who was speaking to him. He sat up in his bed a bit and wiped away at his eyes.

“Uh, yea.. Look, Tom, I got a long day so I can’t really talk.” He cringed, even at his own response. He wanted to explode on him yet at the same time wanted to pretend nothing was going on. He couldn't avoid him forever, he knew that but he wasn't ready to face him yet. There was still so much cluttering his mind and one false move and he’d be a mess of profanity and hatred. The smile on Tom’s face faltered and his eyebrows furrowed in disdain. All the hope he had quickly diminished and instead of butterflies there was an ugly knot in his stomach.

“How long are you going to do this to me,” he asked trying to remain calm but growing more angry the longer Mark kept dismissing him. He was tired of this game and ready for it to be over. He didn't care what needed to be said anymore, he just wanted to expose Mark right then and there. He could hear Mark sigh heavily followed by a rustling noise. 

“How long were you going to keep from me that you had another band,” Mark shot back in question, unable to keep his voice from shaking. All this build up and trying to bury it inside was started to implode and he hadn't meant to but it had become such a massive source of enmity. He felt the seething anger lingering on the tip of his tongue and bit down on it harshly to suppress it. Tom was silent, his breath caught in his throat and he was at a complete loss for words. He had to stop and think for a moment what in the world he couldn't possibly be talking about but it didn't take him long to finally figure it out. He started to open his mouth to speak, even if the words weren't coming he needed to say something but Mark had started talking again.

“Don’t even bullshit me either, you left your phone in our changing room and some asshole called going on about some project you’re working on with him. Why haven’t you said anything to me, you could have just fucking told me,” Mark added after Tom hadn't said anything. He wasn't even pissed at the guy who had called but it definitely didn't help he had hung up on Mark after finding out it wasn't Tom. That perplexed him as well. 

“Why the fuck are you touching my shit anyway? Mark, it’s just a side project I’m working on, it’s nothing,” Tom’s voice was raised at this point. He ran a hand through his hair roughly and pulled at it. He didn't really care that Mark answered his phone he just felt angry at this point. Mark was overreacting to something he planned on telling him eventually anyway. Maybe it was just bad timing and probably didn't help he had to find out this way. But if this was the reason Mark had been avoiding him he was definitely not happy at all about that. He couldn't understand why Mark would rather harbor his feelings than just come out and say it like he normally does. He must have been taking it a lot harder than he expected and that much he was slowly starting to understand. 

“If it’s nothing, then why did you keep it from me? Some best friend you are.” Mark held the phone tightly, wanting more than anything to hang up the phone and toss it out the window but held it to his ear just a moment longer. All Tom had to do was either confirm his suspicions about it and be honest. If he was going to start some other band, he could have told him. He could have asked him. But he didn't and it cut Mark deeply. He truly and honestly felt betrayed and had no true way of conveying his emotions than utterly blowing up on Tom. He heard Tom breathe out profoundly.

“Damn it, Mark. Just listen to me, okay? It’s just a different sound. I’m not leaving Blink or trying to start another band or any of that shit. Come on, just meet me somewhere and we can talk about this, let me clear this shit up so we can go back to being friends. This is stupid as fuck.” There was silence on the other end. He had really thought Mark had hung up this time but there was more rustling then a rush of air. Mark gulped heavily, swallowing all the bitterness inside him, hoping he could mask it just a bit longer. If this was his one time to give Tom a chance, this had to be it or there was no turning back.

“I know where you are, I’ll be at Grey’s Haunting. You can come there this evening if you want.” He didn't know why he was telling Tom that information. He didn't believe a word Tom was saying, despite how badly he wanted to. He wanted more than anything for this all to make sense to him. So this was him giving his friend his chance. This was his moment to redeem himself and put Mark’s mind at ease at last. Tom wasn't too far behind actually. He had remembered he took off shortly after him and had said something to their manager about meeting them somewhere. So as long as Tom could at least meet them there, it was enough for Mark at the moment. He didn't know if he really felt up to talking to him but they couldn't go on like this, he knew that much.

“And wear a fucking mask, I don’t want to see your lying ugly face,” he added before shoving the phone away. He could hear Tom distinctly saying “Fuck you” almost angrily before he hit END CALL. He stood outside the bus and over looked the acres of fields ahead of him. There was a warehouse down a dirt road he could faintly see where a line of vehicles seemed to be driving towards. It appeared rather grim in his opinion, perhaps the perfect setting for a haunted house event. If he remembered correctly they weren't going to start taking admissions until after 7 p.m. and it was only now just 5. He let a long breath out, shivering in the cool autumn air, it’s cold fingers beginning to wrap around his body. Again he found himself trying to find a way to get his mind off everything. It was all beginning to resurface, a hot boiling ebb of emotions overcoming him. He contemplated going back to sleep but settled on a long cold shower instead.

Tom wanted to throw his phone across the parking lot. He felt suddenly violent, his temper boiling to it’s peak, Mark’s words threatening to spark an ire of curse words and destructiveness. How could he just say those things and leave him hanging like that? He didn't feel it was fair at all. He could have at least accepted his explanation and tried to talk it out with him in some form or fashion. In the least, he was willing to meet him somewhere. He needed this more than anything right now and rearing to go. He pushed off the wall and power walked back to the bus. The door shoved open as he approached and that red face was now smiling up at him, oblivious to Tom’s war path.

“Got something you might like,” he started lifting a flier to him. Curiosity got the best of him and he snatched the paper from him, reading over it quickly. A sinful smile spread across his lips. It was exactly what he needed.

“Grey’s Haunting Haunted House event.. What a stupid name,” he commented as he pushed the paper back into Steve’s hands. He actually hadn't thought it was such a bad idea but the fact Mark was being a complete dick and was going to be there just made it that much more unpleasant for him. In all honesty he wasn't even sure Mark was actually going to talk to him face to face so at that moment he devised a plan. One way or another he was going to get Mark to hear him out.

“This is perfect, let’s go.” Steve was taken aback by Tom’s words. He never agreed with any of his suggestions.

“First, we’re making a stop.. I need a costume.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night draws near and the haunting is about to begin. Mark starts to wonder if Tom will ever show but Tom has his own way of confronting his disgruntled friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the story isn't dragging too much. I'm kind of just writing this with what I'd like to read in mind and I seriously didn't want to rush into anything. I've gone back and edited a few things where it seemed I did. Hope you enjoy.

As soon as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, a blanket of cool, frigid air settled. Mark shivered against the side of the bus pushing his hands as far into his pockets as he could. He could have found something a bit thicker to wear but it wasn't exactly on the forefront of his mind to dress warmly. He was hoping he’d be running around like a mad man before too long anyway once he got inside the haunted house. He didn't really feel like dressing up either. He felt somewhat lame imagining himself probably the only dope walking in with normal clothes. It probably didn't help he’d possibly be the oldest guy there among teenagers. On top of that, the nearest place to buy anything remotely costume like was well over 10 miles away in each direction. Somehow though, despite everything, the numbing cold feeling was quite inviting. Then again, it did nothing to sooth his mind.

His driver, Alan, another temp, climbed out of the bus and stood next to him holding a cold beer. Mark glanced towards him noticing it was being offered to him. Alan must have been reading his mind because it was exactly what he needed at the moment. Perhaps it could help take the edge off. He took it without hesitation and nodded a silent thank you. They didn't speak much to each other, in fact they hardly had to. He appreciated that most of all right now. He wasn't particularly in the mood for talking these past couple of days.

He glanced down at the bottle in his hand then threw his head back and chugged the beer in one whole go. As he pulled the lip of the bottom away from his mouth he let out a satisfied sigh. It wasn't even his favorite kind of beer, but he didn't care anymore. Anything that had some kind alcohol content and could dull his senses was gold in his book. Alan watched him, his jaw falling slowly in amazement. That wasn't something he witnessed very often or in the very least expected from Mark.

“Slow down, partner,” he said as he raised his hands to take the empty bottle just before Mark had a chance to shatter it on the roadside ahead of them.

“I’ll be alright, we got anymore?” Alan shook his head to Mark’s question and started to walk away. Maybe that was a lie but it wasn't without reason. For one, Alan had bought those for himself while Mark went off to play in the haunted house, or how he so delicately put it when Mark had first stated he wanted to go. Second of all, Mark seemed to be seeking a reason to drink these past couple of nights he noticed. He hated to think he'd become an enabler. Mark was an adult and could make his own decisions, he knew that, but for the time being it really felt like he needed to look after him. There was something definitely off about him, something broken. Even in the little time he knew him he figured this much out.

“Take it easy tonight, Mark. I want you back in one piece, got it?” He shot a pointed finger to Mark who shrugged lightly. He wasn't too terribly worried but he felt compelled to let Mark know someone somewhere out there wanted him to stay safe. But he also didn't think Mark needed someone nagging him or making it seem like he was his babysitter. He didn't want to push an already unstable Mark. He wondered if he should mention something about Mark’s phone which the bassist kept fingering and staring longingly at in what he thought was his own quiet contemplation. There was someone definitely on the other end of that phone that Mark wanted to reach out to but he didn't feel it was his place to pry. He left it at that, better safe than sorry. He’d be damned if he was on the receiving end of Mark’s war path if he were to suddenly erupt. He didn't necessarily feel up to being collateral damage.

Mark hadn't really noticed the concern either in the man’s words or face and shrugged his shoulders indifferently before turning away and facing the direction of the warehouse when Alan had disappeared inside the bus. The back drop of a dimly lit horizon gave the building a grim impression of abandonment. If there hadn't been cars lined up along the roadside and lights filtering from the frosted windows he would have easily dismissed it as some old, run down shed. That of course was ideal for it’s current endeavor. The phone in Mark’s pocket vibrated and sprang to life. He hesitated moving his hand to his pocket, scraping his fingers over the smooth surface. His heart began to race on it’s on volition, despite how calm he was trying to remain. He hated how much his body betrayed him when Tom was his source of frustration; how his throat went dry, or how his palms would get sweaty. Every time Tom’s image appeared in his mind, he felt a rush of anxiety. His stomach turned as he reminded himself what his best friend was doing to him. It killed him to be this distant and cold, but it wasn't his fault; he had to keep telling himself. He pulled it out finally and this time checked his caller I.D. It was Tom. Again. He gripped the phone tightly in his palm, mulling over whether he should answer it or not and just let it go to voice mail like he had the last few days. He decided to go with latter and dropped the phone back in his pocket.

He glanced behind him, making sure Alan hadn't decided to come back out and was settled in when he opened his jacket and slipped his hand into an inside pocket. He pulled out a small silver flask and twisted the cap off. It was actually quite disappointing to find it was empty. There wasn't but a bitter drop that landed on his tongue. He tossed the flask aside into the brush and decided it was time to make his way to the warehouse. He wondered if he had been standing out here waiting for Tom to arrive. He wasn't expecting him to come if he was being entirely honest with himself, but it didn't stop him from having that minuet granule of hope that he would show up. Perhaps he decided after all not to come. Mark took it as a guilty conscience. For a moment he was actually pretty content with the idea of not having to see Tom or face what was inevitably coming. But he knew deep down he needed this closure, any kind of closure at all to ease his anguish.

Tom, on the other hand, had been trying to get a hold of Mark for the last hour. His service kept going out and the one time he heard ringing there was no answer. He didn't know what he was trying to call Mark, especially after their last talk. Mark more than likely would end up just yelling at him or hanging up on him anyway. But he called anyway, maybe it was just to hear Mark’s voice. Cursing under his breath he flew out the bus door and shoved his phone in Steve’s chest. He wasn't a stranger to Tom’s angsty behavior, but it was getting progressively worse and less ‘punk’ and more destructive. He had been stomping around like a kid having a tantrum, tossing things, slamming doors, and locking himself in his room for hours on end. He hadn't even eaten properly in days and it was Alan’s guess but he probably hadn't slept much judging from the dark bags under his eyes.

Tom’s outfit comprised mostly of loosely fitting black pants and black long sleeve shirt which he wore a white short sleeved shirt over. There was fake blood splashed across it and a few tears resembling knife wounds running down the fabric. He slipped a mask over his head; the eyes were blackened and a wicked grin took up most of the face. If Mark wasn't going to answer or even acknowledge him, he was going to find some other way to get to him, by whatever means it would take to that matter. In this manner, Mark wouldn't have a chance to turn and run. He could be safely anonymous. He lifted his arms and did a small spin for Steve nodding his head dramatically when he earned two thumbs up.

The drive over didn't take too long. His bus had only been 2 hours behind Mark's. He didn't understand why they couldn't just travel together like they always do, but according to crew members Mark had actually requested to be alone. That didn't surprise Tom too much since he was getting used to the idea of Mark’s cold shoulder. But it didn't stop the hurt that ached in his chest. As the bus came to a stop, it was about a quarter until 7. He couldn't spot Mark’s bus anywhere and was starting to question whether or not he was even here. It was quite possible he had been played. Despite his doubts he opted on going in head first and just trying to enjoy himself regardless. Even if he wasn't here it didn't matter. Fuck Mark, he thought, he was going to have a good time anyway. There was always that chance that Mark was running late or already there. There was a road, from what he remembered seeing on a map he glanced at, on the opposite side running parallel to the road they were on. 

Steve had actually done something quite amazing and got Tom a spot in the actual role of a creeper in the haunted house. It was considered “volunteer” work, there were no terms or conditions for any kind of tender or compensation, it was purely for the effect. Tom took it as one of those “experience” moments, where he would just be doing something he loved which was to scare the shit out of people. It definitely would relieve some stress for him. The owner had only agreed to it, after all, when he heard it was Tom Delonge from Blink-182. Steve had to make him promise to keep his identity under wraps, which made Tom just that much more impressed.

He climbed off the bus and made his way to the entrance. It was a nice change of pace for him. No screaming fans or paparazzi hording around him. No one recognized him or even cared that he was there. He was just a regular guy blending into a faceless crowd. He enjoyed that aspect thoroughly. He finally entered and found the operations manager, letting him know who he was and why he was there. He was instructed to linger in a hallway as people started to filter in. He would be cast in the shadows and was to follow people and disappear into unmarked doorways and pop out at them. It was easy enough. 

He even did a quick run through with another actor since he didn't have time to fully rehearse like everyone else. He found his way back to his mark and waited anxiously for the doors to be opened. The lights dimmed and he could hear quiet shuffling of feet as people made their way in. There were hushed whispers and creaking of doorways and floors. It was a nice set up. He had to admit this was something he could get into. The first group of people he got a few jump scares out of, one woman clinging to her friend and letting out a high pitched shriek at his sudden appearance. The next group he managed to scare someone off in the opposite direction. His creeping demeanor was really working out for him, people didn't expect to see a tall menacing figure following them.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself and as time passed he was coming up with his own methods of stalking people and jumping at them at just the right time. He had lost himself in his character and was completely immersed in the atmosphere. But as he headed back to his post and the next group was starting to filter in, he spotted a familiar head of hair amidst a crowd of teens. He squinted into the darkness and his heart almost climbed right out of his throat. Turned out Mark had come after all and was actually there alone. What got to him most was that Mark was actually there, the live tangible form, not just a figment of his imagination. His hand dropped to his empty remembering he had threw his phone at Steve. He had wanted to text Mark or call him, just to see if he would answer or respond.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding for so long. His chest heaved and everything about the moment had become tense, uncomfortable and abruptly surreal. He stepped back into the darkness and for some reason just felt like hiding away and watching Mark as he started to pass by. He missed his cue to jump out as the group wandered by obliviously. He was frozen against the wall, his eyes trained on his best friend who stepped slowly and hung in the back of the group. The noise of their shuffling feet on the rickety wooden floors drowned out his thoughts for only a second until they had past and entered the next area. His chest was starting to hurt from the anxiety building inside him. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous but it definitely had something to do with the frustration all knotted up in his gut. 

Tom finally found himself and took a step out, slightly revealing himself but he had no idea what to do next and no real intention of flagging down his friend. He just waited and kind of hoped Mark wouldn't notice him after all. Mark could see movement through his peripheral and turned towards it. The man stood completely still just a few feet away as if caught in the headlights. Mark slowed to a stop and tilted his head in his direction, curious about how that could possibly be scary in any fashion. Perhaps he was going for the creep factor, which definitely was working for him.

The group was moving ahead and leaving Mark behind before he could notice. He felt like he had been moving in slow motion the whole evening anyway; barely there in some kind of a timeless stupor. As soon as he saw the last person disappear around a corner he started to dart ahead but some wailing ghost woman had run across his path so suddenly he nearly knocked into her. He tried to step back at the last minute but ended up tripping on himself and falling back with a thud. The floor creaked to his side, there was no one else around except a shadowy figure looming just a few feet from him. His eyes followed the length of the man’s body up to his masked face that seemed to stare right back at him. The grin that hid in shadows on his face was beginning to really freak Mark out.

“Fuckin’ creep,” Mark muttered under his breath as he began to get up. He slurred a few more curse words as he dusted his dirty backside off then noticed the figure had disappeared. Tom had slid behind a wall before Mark was completely on his feet again. He pressed his back against a wall and took a long, deep breath. He had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, but he didn't really have time to think about that, Mark was moving away again. Tom followed Mark into the next room, which was empty now. The group had long left Mark behind and the actors were already returning to their cues, setting up for the next group in 5 minutes. If Tom was going to do anything, he had to make sure it was sooner than later before he lost the other man.

It was fairly dark in the small room Mark found himself in. There wasn't a soul around or a sound except for the floors groaning and whining beneath his careful steps. A hushed groan left his lips as he put a hand to his forehead. Probably not the best time to lose his way. He'd probably have to either wait for the next group or pick one of the 4 doors in the room to go through and hope and pray it was the right one. None of them were marked or really stood out to him. Tom scooted through the doorway as quietly as he could, approaching Mark. There was an unbearable tension in the air. Even if he had created it himself, it was weighing very heavily on him. It didn't help he was starting to sweat profusely under his mask and his clothes seem to cling tightly to his body from the moisture leaking out of his skin. He could swear Mark could hear his heart pounding. He had to find some way to keep his cool, it was do or die at this moment.

“Lost,” Tom questioned but lowered the tone of his voice to try to mask his own so Mark wouldn't recognize it. It was more of a breathy noise then an actual word, but still somewhat legible. He had hoped he could be much more coherent when it actually comes down to confronting him and talking this out like they should be doing. Mark spun on his heel and was startled to see the same masked man from before standing right behind him. Tom tilted his head curiously to the side and bit back a chuckle threatening to leave his lips. It was good to see Mark’s face. For a moment he had almost forgotten the entire build up and just enjoyed seeing him like this. His best friend seemed baffled and appeared to become more annoyed by the situation the longer it dragged out. It was like a small secret revenge for Tom, his own personal hell he could put Mark through. Mark, however, wasn’t feeling it. He felt stupid for one, but most of all just frustrated by the whole situation. He was supposed to be running away in fear, screaming and yelling, and overall just enjoying the experience. 

“What the fuck, man? Yea I think I am, my group left me.” Mark’s response was innocent enough with only a hint of desperation. He didn't seem angry or out of character in the least. This threw Tom off, but most of all it pissed him off. Why was he the sole target of Mark’s aggression? Everyone else in the world was okay, but the only person who should suffer this man's wrath was Tom. Of all the people, he should have tried to talk to him at least. He could admit he should have said something sooner but this was no way to react, not in his opinion. It was a low blow and it hurt him deeply. This was making Tom quite manic. His skin was beginning to crawl and there was an ugliness festering in his gut.

“Tsk,” Tom ticked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head in a disappointed manner. He took a step closer to Mark who stood his ground, watching him carefully. Mark didn't understand this guy at all. Was he still playing along as his character or was he being intentionally rude? He wanted more than anything to just walk away from this guy but right now that wasn't an option. Just by the way the guy stood so close and the way he postured seemed arrogant and off putting. This only made Mark’s mood that much worse.

“That’s not my problem,” Tom spoke in the same tone as before. He decided to stay in character, make sure he got everything he could out of the situation. He couldn't bring himself to tell Mark who he was, all he could do was drink the poison from the deep pit inside of him. There was a certain rage beginning to boil to the surface, he hadn't even the time to try and reason with it. It was simply becoming him the longer the moment dragged out. The only problem was he had no idea what he was expecting or doing to that matter or what he should do. He could stay hidden behind this veil of obscurity and toy with his friend, that to him seemed the only logical path. Mark’s eyes wavered a moment then fell to the ground. He looked a bit dazed and confused and just off.

Tom's body was beginning to shudder with anxiety. He felt a sudden urge to throw something at Mark, to punch him, or to shove him down. He was tired of not being heard and disregarded. Even now as Mark shrugged and turned away from him, he felt utterly worthless and empty inside, like he was no one to him. He clenched his fist and moved to the older man. He grabbed his arm and turned him around suddenly shoving him hard against a wall. His hand clasped around his throat, applying just enough pressure to keep him propped. Mark inhaled a sharp breath moving his hands to the man’s strong arms. He couldn't even get any words out before a hand was pushed against his mouth. He was in a very comprising situation. The alcohol hindered him just so much so he couldn't shake free and the man’s brute strength seemed forced and just enough to overpower him. He didn't think people were allowed to actually touch anyone in here, then again it didn't feel like this guy was acting anymore. He could literally feel the man trembling and a wave of unease washed over him.

Now that Tom had him in this position he had no idea where to go from here. He didn't know what to expect, but Mark's frozen form in front of him was displeasing to say the least. He wanted him to put up more of a fight, to struggle, to flail and try and get free but he wasn't doing anything. It was driving him crazy. So they stayed like that for a while longer, staring at each other in the darkness.

“Is this part of the program or something,” Mark’s muffled question managed to make its way from beneath Tom’s hand over his mouth. Tom pushed his hand harder against him in an effort to shut him up. So many thoughts were racing through his mind and one in particular of just confronting Mark here and now was on the top of his list of things to do. He could easily just rip off his mask and expose himself to him, get it all out in the open and over with. There was so much to say, so much that needed to be vented.

"Why did it have to come to this?" Mark could faintly hear the man speaking but couldn't make out what he was saying. His voice was so meek and in a defeated manner he slumped his head forward, shaking it as if disappointed or ashamed. His hand had slipped as well from Mark’s mouth and he took this opportunity to take in a deep breath.

"Come on man, just talk to me," Mark responded after a few moments of silence. Tom lifted his head slowly, those deep pools of black on his mask seemingly piercing straight into Mark. He gulped, growing even more apprehensive by the man's silence. Tom thought at the moment to give it up. He couldn't even say what was on the tip of his tongue, knowing if he did it would potentially reveal him. Instead he pushed his hand further into Mark's neck.

"Just.. shut up already."


End file.
